C and S
by LarienGreenleaf1
Summary: After Kit asks him a series of personal questions, Charles begins to wonder what he is really doing at Lucky Smells Lumbermill


C and S

_Dear Kit_

_I must apologise for the lateness of this reply but only now have I been able to separate myself from Sir and his shirts to have a moment for such things. And while I could use these reasons alone as my excuse I think you deserve to know that it also took me a while to come up with suitable answers to your questions._

_The first question I do not know if I could answer even now. I like to think he does. All he speaks about to anyone is the mill, money or the smell of burning wood. But I like to think that at some point in his life I have made some difference. I like to think he would notice if I was not there, even if he did just notice that he was getting hungry or his shirts went un-ironed. I think that you would agree with me that love is not always kind. _

_I have also come to the conclusion that I will not be able to answer your second question in a way you would find satisfying. Your family have always questioned why I love him and in words I could not tell you. _

_If there is anything you ever need from me than I will do my very best to help you. Although I do fear that you will find me useless, like I suspect the Baudelaire's did. Like he does. Like I do._

_Yours Sincerely _

_Charles x_

It was late in the night when Charles awoke, his mind so restless that he did so without an alarm or any prompting. He meant to go to the library and study letters sent to him by the Snickets, but was distracted by a loud snore and a large body shifting besides him. He smiled gently and lay back down again to study the face of his partner. Late at night was the only time when he was not smoking a cigar and the only time his face was clear. When he knew only Charles would see him. Charles smiled as he reached out to stroke the rough skin...

The innocent touch was interrupted by a large hand reaching up to snatch the hand away. Charles closed his eyes in fear, knowing that he had provoked one of two situations. As upset as he got when Sir was angry at him, this was a scenario where he hoped for it. He slowly opened his eyes again to see the lecherous grin on Sir's face.

"Well hello to you to," said Sir chuckling. He rolled on top of Charles, crushing him with his weight before lighting a cigar. Charles coughed loudly as the second hand smoke entered his lungs, leaving little room for oxygen with Sir upon his stomach.

"Please Sir do you have to do that now?" He asked, almost in tears from the pain.

"Of course! Are you an idiot?" Sir barked. "Now stop snivelling and do something!"

"Sir stop! Get off me." Charles shifted as much as he could and Sir took some of his weight of Charles's abdomen. Enough for him to be able to breathe, not enough for him to be able to escape.

"Now why would I do that, I'm not an idiot." Sir brought his clouded face down and kissed Charles hard on the mouth, forcing his large tongue inside. Charles gagged slightly at the taste of tar, but returned the kiss in an attempt to sweeten Sir up.

"That's the spirit," Sir growled as he planted sloppy kisses around Charles's neck and face.

"Sir please, not now." Charles gasped, Sirs actions not doing anything for him. "I have things I need to do. That's why I'm awake. "

"Things? What things?" Said Sir suspiciously as he finally rolled off his partner. Charles coughed violently as he sat up, resting his hand on his chest in pain.

"I remembered a letter I needed to send to Kit. She-"

"Oh bugger Kit! Why do you care so much about her?"

"She is my friend Sir."

"For goodness sake Charles! You don't need friends. You know if you thought less about people and more about lumber-"

"Yes, yes I know, our business would be in a much better state." He almost ran out of bed, so desperate to avoid this conversation. He refused to turn around and look at Sir as he felt tears come to his eyes. '_Our business.' _That's what he had said. That's what they both said. But it wasn't really, they both new that. "Please Sir, just let me go."

"No Charles! I'm not an idiot. You are my partner! It's your job to-"

"Don't say it! Stop telling me what my job is, as your partner my job is to help you in the business and stand by your side. To love you no matter what. I do that, is that not enough?" Sir said nothing. Charles could not even tell his expression under neither the cloud of smoke that was his face. Reluctantly he sat back down onto the bed and let Sir pull him back into his arms.

"You are just like those workers," Sir whispered into his ear. "You are not grateful for anything I have given you, a place to stay, things to eat along with that stupid library of yours. All I ask is for a few things in return." He slide a fat hand up Charles's leg. "Now then, shall we?" Charles closed his eyes and nodded, leaning in to kiss his partner. Charles could swear that he never opened his eyes thought-out the love making. He could hear his partner grunting and yelling in joy as he thrust into him. He could reach out and touch the sweaty skin and large shoulders. He could smell the fumes from the expensive cigar his partner continued smoking. He wished that he could shut off his other senses just as easily as he could close his eyes.

When it was all over and Sir was once again snoring with his face buried in the pillow, Charles observed him once more. The man he loved.

A close friend had once told Charles that Sir was not worthy of his love. Charles had not replied but had always remembered it. Not that he would ever care what anybody else thought of Sir. He loved Sir and was here under his own free will. Despite always doing so, he never feared to consenting to all the chores Sir made he do at the lumber mill. He did not want Sir to get mad at him, but he knew exactly what would happen if he did and he knew he would be able to recover. This applied to all situations bar one.

Like a mime Charles slipped out of bed and down the hall towards the library. Slowly he re-read his letter to Kit. Charles decided that he could not think of any amendments that he would like to make to what he had already written but decided to write a short P.S.

_I will admit that I am scared to say no._


End file.
